A peculiar woman came into my work the other day. I helped her as I would anybody else. I always remember kind people because there is something in their way that I wish to emulate. I want to exude that certainty: that fleeting promise of there being something good about things ultimately. I think some people give that vibe. Anyway, I helped her with whatever and we had a little conversation. I was genuinely kind to her because (even when I'm at work and I'm expected to be polite) I can't fake being kind or mean. Unfortunately, I am the type of person who wears their thoughts vividly. If I'm not happy with a situation, I may vocalize one thing, but my face is marred with discontent. I can't hide my emotions. Good or bad. But it is easy to be friendly at work or at school or on the bus or at the store or wherever, when someone puts him/herself out there and acts kind without pretense. Anyway, then she asked me if she could take a photo of me. There I was in my work apron doing work things talking to people at work on an ordinary Tuesday, and this old sweet woman wants to take my photo. I did not understand. I became so flustered. I asked her why? what does she want do with it? She told me she "just takes pictures people who [she] thinks are nice," and anywhere, McDonald's, the supermarket. She told me she would give the photo to me the next time she saw me in the store but I told her she could keep it. I thought it was really fucking weird. It was really fucking strange. But I let her take my photo anyway. And she showed it to me. I looked visibly uncomfortable but I also looked incredibly happy. I thought about it and I realized that I'm just as weird for consenting to it and for feeling so good about meeting this person. And even though it made me uncomfortable, it was refreshing. Is being uncomfortable all that bad? Is being a little too close to strangers that detrimental? Why is it so hard to break out of those monotonous and mechanical and layered transactions between people? I mean, you see a lot of strange shit in retail. Ordinary people come in and treat you like a dog just because you get paid to stand behind a counter and collect their money. How is that normal? That people lose their sense of respect and courtesy and slightly look down upon other human beings given the opportunity. What does that say about us? I digress. Meeting Ms/Mrs/Señora Wood was a nice little interruption. Why are we so resistant to certain levels of intimacy between strangers but then why are we so able to do all of the other crazy/abnormal/way-too-expository shit that we do when we're drunk or on social media and so on? What was so fucking scary about letting a stranger take my picture? Why was that so hard?
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